Hormones
by mustlovecat
Summary: DL One Shot  Danny's having a little trouble dealing with some of the symptoms of Lindsay's pregnancy ...


**A/N** I'm back. By popular demand LOL Just kidding. But thanks for all of the positive reviews. I was really nervous about posting anything and you guys have all been so supportive that it has encouraged me to go wherever the plot bunnies lead. This one was particularly fun to write.

**Disclaimer** As soon as Carmine agrees to marry me, I'll stop borrowing Jerry et al.'s creations to submit to my will. Seriously, I own nothing. Not even my car for another 7 months. And my cat owns me, so that doesn't count either.

"Danny, I'm horny."

It was not his wife's words so much as the tone of her pronouncement that caused Danny to shoot his head up from the report he had been working on and fire an incredulous look across their shared office at her. Was Lindsay…_whining_?

He had to admit, he had turned into a vociferous reader since they had found out she was pregnant. From _What to Expect When You're Expecting _to _The Expectant Father: Facts, Tips and Advice for Dads-to-Be_, he had read it all. When he had come to the part about how the sex drive increases for some pregnant women, he had sat back and waited eagerly. That was something he could certainly handle. Or so he thought. But apparently satisfying his wife seven times in the past twelve hours was _nowhere_ near sufficient.

His eyes darted to the doorway of their office as he said a silent prayer, hoping that nobody had been walking by at the moment she had decided to declare to him that she needed more sex _now_. His relief at seeing the empty corridor was short-lived, as he realized that between the glass walls that surrounded them, the pile of reports awaiting his attention in his in box, and the fact that he was just worn out, there really was nothing he could do for her right now.

"Danny, did you hear me?" she purred.

He leaned across his desk, his voice barely above a whisper as he replied, "Baby, I think the entire lab would've been able to hear you. What do you want me to do about it? We're at work!"

"The Danny Messer I know never would've thought of that as being an obstacle."

"Geez, Montana. I'm only one man!" He was horrified as the words escaped his lips. Had he really just said that? Daniel Messer, the guy all guys wanted to be? The lover that had received only compliments from the satisfied women he had left in his wake?

She giggled.

He scowled. "I'm glad you find this all so amusing."

She did her best to stop laughing, uttering a half-hearted, "I'm sorry," before she was wracked by another round of giggles.

With a sigh, he stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

"Wait, Danny, I'm sorry. Where are you going?" Lindsay asked, now genuinely apologetic.

"I need some air. I'm goin' across to Vincenzo's for a latté. You want some tea?"

She nodded a little sheepishly, feeling guilty for the bad mood her husband was now in.

He went to leave, and despite the voice screaming inside of her not to, she couldn't help it. She called after him, "Hey, if you see Flack or Hawkes out there …"

He fired a glare over his shoulder and headed down the hall towards the bank of elevators.

Restless, he couldn't stand still as he waited for the elevator to arrive. So he headed across and entered the stairwell. The trip down thirty-five flights would certainly help to calm him down.

Reaching the ground floor, a hint of sweat on his brow, he crossed the marble lobby and went to push through the door when someone coming in crashed into him. He was about to bark out a "Hey, watch it" until he realized it was Mac. Instead, he muttered a quiet "Sorry, Mac."

Taylor raised his eyebrows at seeing his junior grade agitated. It was not a normal reaction to paper work. Boredom, sure. But agitation, not so much. "Something wrong, Danny?"

"No. Just need a coffee fix. I'm going across to Vincenzo's. You want anything?"

Mac laughed softly then. "Is Lindsay driving you crazy?"

"What?"

"I'm sure she's having odd cravings and mood swings and –"

"Wait, how did you know?"

Danny and Lindsay had decided to wait a while before saying anything to anyone. Well, Lindsay had decided. She was afraid Mac was going to start putting restrictions on her duties, so she was trying to put it off as long as she could. So far, Flack and both sets of parents were the only ones who knew. Well, so they both thought. Apparently, now so did Mac!

"Danny, I'm a detective. And a scientist. I'm paid to be observant."

"Ah, man, she's gonna kill me if she thinks I told you," Messer groaned.

"Are there complications? Is that why you're being so secretive?"

"No, she's fine. You know Lindsay. She just doesn't want any special treatment."

"Well, there is going to come a point where there will be things she can't do. I'll have to limit her field hours and put restrictions on what she can process. How far along is she?" Mac inquired.

"Eleven weeks."

Mac just nodded, but then a wide smile crossed his face. "Well, congratulations. I'm thrilled for both of you. You'll both be great parents."

Danny was truly touched by his mentor's words of assurance and approval. "Thanks, Mac."

"Listen, I won't say anything. I'll give Lindsay three weeks to come to me. I'll act surprised."

Danny breathed a sigh of relief. "You just saved my life. I appreciate that."

Taylor laughed. "But she's really okay?"

"Sure, fine. A little, uh – _hormonal_. But no, she's good."

"I'm glad to hear that. Keep me posted. And remember, this too shall pass."

Danny nodded and sighed as he watched Mac head off towards the elevators, then resumed his errand.

When he returned to their office twenty minutes later, he was in a much better mood. And when he found his wife sleeping at her desk, her head resting on her folded arms, he couldn't help but melt. He set her tea down on the corner of the desk and kissed the top of her head.

He walked over to his desk and sat back on his chair, and opened the lid on his latté. For a moment, he just watched Lindsay doze, then he opened his desk drawer and pulled out his dog-eared copy of _My Boys Can Swim! The Official Guy's Guide to Pregnancy_. He glanced over the top of the book at his wife again, and then appraised the office and all the blind spots in the construction of the walls. Maybe, if they angled her chair just right on the opposite side of the desk … Of course, she'd have to be quiet …


End file.
